A FILTHY Friend
a filthy line novel
Jaxson Kidman
Contents
A FILTHY Friend
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Meet Shane
More from Jaxson
A FILTHY Friend
The boy next door.
My best guy friend.
The rock star on stage.
I’ll always know Sab as Sebastian.
And no matter what happens in life he’s always there.
My amazing friend.
When my mother passes away unexpectedly he’s the first person I call.
Without hesitation he’s on a plane to see me.
He takes care of everything.
Then he comes up with a wild idea.
He wants me to go on tour with him and the band.
It’s an easy way to get my mind off things.
And as long as Sab is watching over me nothing can go wrong.
But... me and him on a tour bus.
Alone.
Sharing hotel rooms.
Seeing him in a towel to and from the shower.
The sudden sting of jealousy as groupies throw themselves at him.
Before I know it my little ‘sneak peeks’ aren’t enough.
I want him.
I crave him.
My best friend is Sebastian.
But the man touching me is Sab.
Rock star drummer.
One night turns into two... and then some…
And now I’m slipping.
Falling for the rock star.
Falling for my best friend.
But the road is calling him.
That’s always been his first love.
And I won’t be second best.
Even if it breaks my heart.
1
SAB
The car came to a stop.
I looked down and watched my jeans move with the slender hand wrapped around my cock. Her wrist was the first visible body part I could see on her. Kneeling on the seat facing me, she had been begging me the entire ride to put her mouth to good use.
“How does that feel, Sab?” she whispered.
“Fucking great, babe,” I said.
In reality, I felt nothing.
My entire body was numb.
Hence the reason I was in a dark parking lot, in a dark car, getting a handy from someone paid by the amount of cum that ended up in her hand, belly, or between her legs.
She was high end. Super expensive. Dressed to kill. Wild eyes. An eager mouth. And more excited to be with me than I was with her.
Within five minutes of her getting into the car, she told me she had to confess that she was a fan of the band and had been fantasizing about hooking up with one of us for a long time. When I asked her who her favorite band member was, she said it was me.
I wasn’t sure if that was part of the game or not.
Nor did I give a shit.
Her thumb flicked over the ridge on the tip of my cock and I grabbed her wrist.
I pulled her hand away from my jeans and she was just there…
On her knees.
As tall as she could go considering we were in the backseat of a car.
“Now what, Sab?” she asked.
Her voice was smooth and seductive. She loved to say my name. She loved to give me the power on what the next decision was.
She was really good at her job.
“Pull the dress down,” I said.
Without a response she hooked her thumbs in the top of her dress and pulled.
She wore nothing under the dress, which I expected.
Her tits were perfectly round, perky, her nipples like the small tips of someone’s pinky fingers. Everything symmetrical and right in place. Like she had walked out of a dream and into the backseat of the car.
Just for me.
I leaned to my right and she cupped under her tits and came toward me.
I shut my eyes and helped myself to her soft, warm, clean skin.
She smelled like honey and jasmine rolled together between sex laced sheets.
My tongue flicked her left nipple, then her right one.
She groaned way too loud for such a subtle move.
I opened my mouth and engulfed her. Hungry and thirsty all in the same breath, suckling to the point she grabbed the back of my head and gasped for a breath.
“Too much, babe?” I asked with her nipple grazing my teeth.
“No,” she said. “Not at all. Anything you want, Sab. That’s what I signed up for.”
I went for more of her tits.
Kissing, playing, trying to chase away the empty feeling inside me.
It wasn’t working.
Nothing was going to work.
I grabbed her right wrist and put her hand against the thick bulge in my jeans.
She rubbed for a second and made the same groaning sound as before but that only lasted a second.
She pulled at the top of my jeans and when I felt my cock pop free, I took my mouth from her chest.
I leaned back against the backseat of the car and touched her hips.
“Come here, babe,” I said.
She let out a whimpering sound and hiked up her dress so she could straddle me.
Her tits were in my face and I felt the warmth of her slit touch the tip of my cock.
“Listen to me,” I said. “Don’t make any fake noises. I know how to make a woman come. I’m not those guys in Raunchy Recks.”
She laughed and agreed.
I pulled her down and felt my cock become sheathed by her beautiful warmth.
I shut my eyes.
I let her fuck me.
I still felt nothing.
The car took her home.
I decided to walk.
It wasn’t that far of a walk… or so I thought.
It was almost three in the morning.
The earliest I’d get home would be five. Maybe six.
And if I was spotted walking along the side of the road…
“Shit,” I whispered.
There had been a time in my life when I could go for walks without any issues at all. Walking always helped me clear my head. Or sober up. I was a master at being able to walk straight even though my head wasn’t.
But now… there was no chance of any of it.
The last thing I needed was a cop to see me swaying on the side of the road.
I’d be trending news in four hours.
Bad boy drummer for FILTHY LINE arrested for public intoxication.
Or if a fan noticed me, all it would take was a few texts and a picture and I’d be swamped with FILTHY LINE fans looking for a picture or autograph.
And while that wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world, I wasn’t in the mood for any of it. I actually just wanted to be home. In my bed. I wanted to keep drinking whiskey and either pass out or puke.
I never thought the day - or night - would come when my dick would be drained from a beautiful woman and I felt nothing.
I walked a bit more, then had to make the phone call I hated to make.
I had to call Toby.
We had an agreement from years ago that if any of us needed something, call Toby. That’s what he got paid for. On top of his normal shit of making sure the band had a recording deal and that we weren’t getting fucked over by some big corporation.
Loyal as always, Toby answered my call.
All I said was I need a ride.
He asked where I was.
And that was it.
So I sat my ass down on the curb and waited.
I dug into my pocket and took out the folded envelope.
On it was Mitchy’s handwriting.
A letter from him to me.
It arrived the same day I got the news he was dead.
Dead.
Mitchy is dead.
It was something that went through my head countless times but something I never thought would actually happen.
I put the unopened letter away, trading it for my phone.
I did the same dumb thing as always… opening my text messages.
Hey. Feeling like shit. It’s all so heavy. I’m sure you’re sleeping. Ignore this when you read it. I miss you.
I sent the text and waited for Toby to pick me up.
When he showed up, I stood up and got into his small, luxury car.
Toby looked at me. “Do I need to know?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“No blood? Fights? Accidents…”
“No,” I said.
“Then what happened?”
I looked at Toby. “I bought some physical comfort. I let the car take her home. I was going to walk home. Didn’t realize how far away I was.”
“Got it,” Toby said.
He started to drive.
I knew it wasn’t going to be long until he talked to me.
“Have you talked with the other guys at all today?”
“No.”
“You should give them a call.”
“Why?”
“It’s more than a band,” Toby said.
I looked at him. “What do you think is going to happen? It won’t change anything. He was here, Toby. He was with us. I know he fucked up with Jay’s place. But he left when it was time. Maybe it wasn’t time. I don’t even know what happened to him…”
“Sab, you know what happened,” Toby said. “You can’t downplay it.”
“He went out like a rock star, Toby.”
“That he did. I don’t think there’s comfort in that.”
“None at all,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Okay. Tell me about your hired help for the night.”
“Hired help,” I said. “Wow.”
“What was she? A friend?”
“Shut up, Toby,” I said.
He laughed.
He drove me to my house up in the hills.
It’s tucked away, not really hidden, overlooking the city. I swore I would never let fame get to me the way it got to so many others.
I thanked Toby for the ride, climbed out of the car and stumbled my way to the house.
Lights turned on as I entered the house.
Everything was top of the line, super fancy, motion detected and all that bullshit stuff.
I shut the door and made it to the couch before falling down and passing out.
I dreamt about being in the backseat of that car again.
Except it was with someone else.
Someone I’ve known for a long time.
Someone named Bree…
Someone I could never have.
“Toby said we needed to get together,” I said.
“Now we’re listening to Toby?” Nash asked.
Jay sat on an amp without a guitar in his hands.
Reed and Dex each sat in a metal folding chair.
Nash stood on the practice stage where he always did, except he wasn’t going to be singing today.
Just like me… I sat on my drum throne, but it was in front of the drums.
I never thought the day would come when FILTHY LINE put music in the backseat.
“We have to issue a statement,” Dex said.
“Why?” Reed asked.
“Dex is right,” Jay said. “If we don’t do something, they’ll just run with stories about him. They’ll paint him as this loser junkie who deserved to die. And our silence will only fuel it.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Nash asked.
I jumped up and went after Nash.
I grabbed his shirt. “Don’t even say that about him. Got it?”
“Get the fuck off me,” Nash said.
He broke my hold and pushed me back.
I hit the drum throne and we went ass first into my own drum kit.
I lunged forward again at Nash and tackled him off the stage.
We ended up on a table.
It didn’t break like they show in professional wrestling.
Instead, the table fell over and we both hit the floor.
“He was a junkie,” Nash growled at me.
“Fuck you, Nash,” I yelled.
We both landed a few cheap punches to each other’s ribs.
That’s when Dex and Reed broke up the weak fight.
Dex hooked my arms and walked me back to the stage.
“I know you’re hurting, brother,” Nash said. “We all are.”
“Then why say that about him?” I asked.
I felt my throat tightening.
“Sab, it’s the fucking truth,” Jay said. “He’s been a mess for years.”
“Like we’re any better?” I asked.
“We know how to control ourselves,” Reed said. “He could never stop. We tried, Sab. We all tried.”
I shook Dex away and walked back to the stage.
I rubbed my jaw.
“He sent me a letter.”
“What kind of letter?” Jay asked.
“I haven’t opened it. I got it the day we found out. The letter was waiting for me at home. I was alone, then in the backstage room with a couple women. Just doing my thing.”
“I was there,” Nash said. “I was the one who told you.”
“I know, Nash.” I looked back at him. “Sorry about swinging.”
“No worries,” he said. “We have to figure this out together. We have to say something. Soon. He was a mess. He could never kick the habit. It just beat him down. I don’t want to talk about that part of his life. What Mitchy was…”
“A great musician,” Jay said. “He helped pave the way for us.”
“He could write a riff like nobody else,” Dex said.
“His lyrics were solid,” Reed said.
“And he always got the hottest women,” I said with a grin.
“It was always that fake, good-boy look he had,” Nash said. “Everyone thought he was innocent or something. That fucker.”
We started to laugh.
“I hate to bring it up,” Jay said. “But where was he when he was found?”
“A motel, just outside Reno,” Nash said. “He was alone. Him and his guitar. With tons of junk around him. He went out the way he wanted to go out.”
“You really think that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Nash said.
“Maybe that’s the only comfort we can take,” Reed said. “Maybe he was happy.”
“I doubt it,” Jay said. “He just wanted to be part of the band again. Writing songs at my place…”
“You saw what he was doing to your place,” Dex said.
“I know,” Jay said. He stood up and kicked his foot back, tipping his amp over. “I fucking know.”
“We should call Toby,” I said. “Get him here. Get something written up. We write it up though. Not that corporate PR bullshit stuff. We tell Mitchy’s story. The real story.”
“I agree,” Nash said.
“What about a show?” Jay asked. “We should do some kind of small acoustic set or something. For Mitchy. We’ll play the songs he he
lped write. Tell a few stories.”
“I like that,” I said.
“I need a drink,” Dex said.
“We all do,” Reed said.
“That’s kind of fucked up, isn’t it?” I asked. “Mitchy’s demons catch up to him and we’re over here flirting with our own…”
“Flirting and fucking are two different things,” Nash said. He grinned. “Remember that conversation?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Got it.”
Nash got a bottle of whiskey.
He took the cap off and flicked it across the room.
He picked up the table he and I knocked over and put the bottle in the center of it.
Then came the notebook.
He flipped it open.
“We write something about Mitchy and then take a drink,” he said.
“I’ll call Toby quick,” I said. “Before we forget.”
“The ladies are going to get pissed at us,” Jay said with a grin.
“Invite them over too,” I said. “We can all drink. I kind of want to see Wren and Candice kiss.”
“I will cut your…” Jay paused. “Hmm. Now that I’m thinking about it…”
“Let me give Candice a call,” Dex said.
I laughed.
It was the first time in a few days I laughed.
I still missed Mitchy.
And I missed Bree more than ever.
2
BREE
My alarm went off at five and I snoozed my phone like I always did.
I had a dream of a life where I’d wake up at five, climb out of bed with a smile on my face and dance around my apartment to get some coffee and hurry off to work.
That was just a dream.
A FILTHY Friend (Filthy Line Book 5) Page 1
